Kotor - Closure
by L.M.R.17
Summary: Though the war is over, Revan is far out of his time and feels out of place. Can he cope with these internal struggles or will they be the end of the greatest and tragic warriors! (Contains content from both the original Kotor games and the latest SWTOR)
1. Prologue

Prologue: The End of the War _

Finally, after near three decades of one of the greatest and most terrible wars this galaxy had ever seen, the culmination of events finally came to a close. The Great Galactic War was over!

For the present generations it was only the recent three decades they had been forced to suffer with. Only these three decades of their lives had been filled with monumental fears, pain, hopelessness, betrayal, desperation and many other negative emotions that war brings. For three decades—almost equal to a third of a human lifespan—had deprived trillions out of their usual day-to-day lives.

But to one particular person, in the mitts of all these others, three decades was nothing compared to a combination of three _hundred_ years of bloody battles and chaotic wars. For this individual, the real war had started when he had first been accepted into the Jedi Order. The first time he picked up a lightsaber; the first time he learned the ways of the force; the first time he had felt the dark side beckon to him...

Revan Reborn, stared out upon the celebration that took place beyond the walls of his confinements. Everyone within the galaxy that was part of the Republic were either enjoined in the festivities on this world or many others. And why shouldn't they? This was the end of the war. But it was different...for Revan.

Revan's mind began to remember all of his victories, both as a Jedi and a Dark Lord of the Sith. It brought him comfort, but no where near enough. For his part in the fight against the Galactic Sith Empire that had been hiding for hundreds of years had come at a great and terrible cost. It was so horrible, just thinking about it brought him more pain than he believed he could bare.

Images flooded his mind, starting from his time in the Jedi Order, his rise to Knighthood, his choice to rush against the Mandalorians, his discovery in the Outer Regions, his time as a Dark Lord, his rebirth, his imprisonment under the former emperor of the Sith, his rescue, his small time of aiding the current Jedi and Republic fleet. It was all too much for one person, one lifetime. But he was more than one person, changed under the Emperor's influence, changed under the Jedi Order back in his generation and then changed for a final time after the revelation aboard one of Malak's ships, the Leviathan. Three people, three lifetimes, spanning over three hundreds years.

_It's a miracle I'm still sane!_

He then thought of the myriad of precarious actions and choices throughout his time of living.

_Well, somewhat sane..._

Revan allowed himself a grin, then turned away from the celebratory view to sit at the edge of his bed. This small room had been his quarters since arriving on Tython, the current location of the ruling Jedi Council. He stared at his hands, still the same, age-wise, when he last looked upon them. Though technically he was near three hundred and fifty years, his body looked no different than that of a human in their mid-forties.

_Thanks to the Emperor's elixer of life potions._

In order to keep Revan alive the Emperor gave him the same treatment as himself, and a few select others, Revan learned from the many heroes of this war. It came at a cost, but thankfully the Jedi and Republic and learned of a way to free him from the damnable curse. He would age normally now, but for what? As far as he was concerned his life was over. He was in a new era, surrounded by new people, and felt nothing but out of place.

Suicide wasn't a new symptom. He had thought about ending his life throughout his imprisonment under the Emperor, but then he was reminded for why he was there.

_To protect what I most treasure: my wife—Bastila Shan—and my son—Vaner Shan!_

But he had succeeded in that goal. They, and many other Shan generations, had lived their lives in peace before the Sith Empire came. What was his reason for living now? He couldn't just pretend everything from the past no longer mattered or ignore everything he had gone through. And even if he could, no one would want to live their lives with someone like him, and nor did he wish to betray his vows to Bastlia. She had meant everything to him, still did in his heart.

Revan rose, exiting his room and deciding to take a stroll, unable to handle the confinements any longer. Regardless of regaining his physical strength after multiple kolto tank sessions, Revan felt weak. Weaker than he had ever felt in his many, many, many years of living...


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter I: The Proposal_

Many more weeks passed as the celebrations continued. Eventually, the galaxy began to slowly return to their mundane lives. Not that no wars or battles didn't exist. But it was the typical and usual battles and chaotic events known to everyone. There was still rebuilding required after the devastation the Sith brought.

Revan was wondering in the halls of the apartment building of the main city on Tython. The Jedi Council had offered quarters within the temple, but that was the last place Revan wanted to be. He felt his ties with the Jedi were gone. Though he still relayed on the Force, he felt like a ghost roaming through he halls of the temple. Out here he could at least pretend things were normal. By the current era's standards at least.

Revan felt a presence nearing, practically radiating a strong connection to the force. But there was a hint of familiarity in it. That was when he realized who it was.

Satele Shan, a member of the Jedi Council and decedent of his beloved Bastila Shan. Six generations of the Shan family since his disappearance had passed. It was strange, looking, talking and facing his great, great, great, great, great granddaughter. But what made him sad is that he had never got a chance to see his own son. Save for the hologram recording T3-M4, his former droid companion, had stored in his memory banks the day the Exile had attempted to rescue him. At times he wished he still had that recording.

The young woman appeared from around a corner and Revan couldn't help but see similarities to his wife. Something in the shape of her face, the determination in her eyes, the double bladed lightsaber hanging from her belt, her stance and even her voice held many obvious and subtle hints of the woman Revan had grown so close to.

"Master Satele," Revan said, unable to say the Jedi's last name.

"Revan," she replied, giving the usual polite bow of a Jedi. "I'm pleased to see you on this find day of Tython. I hope the accommodations that have been given are comfortable?"

"They are enough," he answered. "But something tells me you aren't out here for the same reason I am. Surely you are needed in the rebuilding?"

"You are right," she answered. "However, I thought it important to take some time to check up on you. After all, you are just as much a hero as the rest of us."

Revan forced a smile. His role was played hundreds of years ago, regardless of the simple aid he gave after being released from his imprisonment.

"I also wished to give console," she told him. "In fact, I insist."

Revan decided not to argue. He was too tired and decided to just get through whatever this really was about. To be honest, he was surprised how little the Jedi and Republic needed or wanted him. It wasn't like before when his victories required seeing his face on screen, print or in-person. He had been left alone and though last time he would have loved it, this time he wished he wasn't.

Satele lead him to a private conference-like room where they could talk. Revan still felt confused as to why she was insisting.

Once they both took their seats across from each other, Satele leaned forward, "How are you? Really?"

Revan wanted to burst out laughing, but he restrained the desire. Smirking instead.

"That well," she leaned back, very posed and proper.

Revan shrugged. "What do you expect? I'm hundreds of years from my time. I'm middle aged and have little reason for life."

"We could arrange some sort of work for you, if you require," she began to think of ideas. "You've already expressed your rejection in Jedi matters. Perhaps you could aid in Republic duties? I and the Council have more than enough contacts to get you a nice position. Or if that isn't to your liking more menial type services. Perhaps-"

She stopped when Revan raised a hand. "I'm not bored Master Satele. I just have no life. All of the people I knew, served with, cared about...their all gone. The era I grew so accustom to, it's gone, changed in so many ways. I feel like a ghost whose lingered beyond their capability to cope. From how I see it, there isn't much of anything I can do."

Satele seemed perplexed, almost in a manner that reminded him of Bastila.

Revan was growing tired of the reminders. They were like a slap in the face, telling him: _Here is a reminded of what you had and that you'll never reclaim!_

"Master Satele," Revan began, "Please don't take this the wrong way, but just seeing you...has made the grief I bare that much harder."

For the first time Revan saw her caught off guard. But she regained herself.

"You don't completely look like her," he said. "But still enough to bring back everything I can never have again. There are event hints in your voice. And it's the equivalent to suffocation or bleeding to death."

"I am sorry," she said, sincerely. "I don't mean to cause you pain. If you would prefer to go through another Jedi Master, I can have that arranged. I—we of the Jedi wish only to make things as easiest and comfortable for you as possible."

Revan nodded in appreciating.

"But let me say this, it is obvious you are unable to let go because you have never been given a chance to find closure," she told him. "I can't claim to know what you feel. I don't think anyone can. But regardless of the situation, you will have to find so way to move on, lest your grief consume you."

Revan knew she was right. He couldn't move on. But as to how he could find closure, no ideas came. "What would you propose then?"

Satele rose from her seat and walked up to him. "I can't bring them back, least of all..._her_. But you could at least try to find solace at her grave."

Revan's eyes nearly shot out of his scull and for a moment he didn't think he heard her right. "What?"

Satele didn't say another word, merely waited for him to process her words.

Revan shot up out of his seat. "You mean...but how? All this time...? I never thought..."

"I did some checking before I decided to come to you," she told him. "Bastila Shan was buried on the world she was born from: Talravin."

More images flooded Revan's mind to the moment Bastila had shared her life with him, before they ever considered marriage, let alone love.

"If you wish and think it might help," Satele began, "I will assigned my own personal pilots and ship to escort you to Talravin."

Revan was speechless. Satele was right, she, nor anyone, could bring Bastila back, but this was the closest he could get. Graves were also a symbol of those passing on from one life to the next. For Jedi, transcending to the Force. But the graves were more for those still alive, giving them comfort and, as Satele has put it, closure. But Revan knew he had never been a typical or traditional Jedi.

"When can I leave?" he asked.


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter II: Ruminations_

Revan was stunned by how fast Satele had worked to get her ship and personal pilots ready to depart. Thankfully, Talravin was within the Core Regions as Tython. It would only take a matter of hours, not days or weeks.

Satele's personal ship was large, consisting of several roomy and spacious quarters. The halls were wide rather than narrow, giving the sense you were in a building on a planet than a ship. But Revan wasn't going to have to resort to pacing or wandering through the ship to help pass the time. Instead, he was finally comfortable within the confined space of his temporary quarters, allowing his mind to drift on the proposal, seeing Bastila's grave and also what he would say.

Grave yards were the best places for victims of lost ones to speak their minds. It wasn't really customary for a Jedi, as the belief went _there is no death, there is only the Force_. But Revan didn't completely believe this. Just like how the Jedi Order had told him _love_ was a useless emotion, and one that led to the Dark Side. But it was love that saved him, and love that had saved Bastila from Malak's corruptive power.

All too well Revan remembered that moment. Bastila had already shown herself prior to their confrontation on the Star Forge. But even then he had a hard time truly believing it. So when he faced her, it was like another kind of slap in the face, telling him: _no matter how hard you try, you'll never be able to save them from the Dark Side!_

But Revan proved that mock wrong when he convinced Bastila of the truth: That he loved her and knew she loved him. He had trusted, not in the Force, but in Bastila. She could have struck him down, and even if she had, he wouldn't have struck back or defended himself. That was how much he loved her. He was willing to allow her to kill him, strike him down. Only then would the Jedi saying and supposed wisdom had proved him wrong.

_But that isn't how it happened!_

Bastila was saved, their love rekindled and ignited brighter than a supernova. He had felt it, they both had. He remembered her falling into his arms and he held her close, not wanting to release her. And for a moment that seemed like an eternity.

A tear escaped his grip and rolled down his face. What he would give just to see her once more. Just to hold her tenderly as he had that moment. In that moment it seemed they had succeeded, not only triumphing over the Dark Side and Malak, but as if they could have a chance at a normal, mundane life. It became that way, for two years before everything fell apart again. His memories returning, his departure, his capture and then...then it was all over. No more life, no more Bastila. And no chance of a family.

In ways, it wasn't completely surprising considering what his life had turned out to be. The fact he had gotten what little time with Bastila and to produce an offspring was a miracle. Just like his redemption.

Regardless of what the Jedi believed, he would still believe Bastila was alive through the Force. She was with him now, had been for some time. But he also recognized she was also within his heart. Soon, one day, when it was his turn to transcend into the Force, they would be reunited and nothing would tear them apart. They would be together in a more deeper and intimate way that any physical or corporeal form.

Revan only wished it would come soon. But he was only midway through the lifespan of a human. He still had another fifty years, maybe more, to suffer through this world, alone and without his beloved wife, and son, who he had never gotten a chance to meet.

Revan felt his emotions overwhelming him and he felt more angry with himself than sad. He felt he couldn't help it though. Everything! All that had happened, it cost him everything! He hated being the hero, the one who had to sacrifice. He remembered in his youth stage, eager for adventure, recognition, standing in the spot light, inspiring others, to play the heroic role. And now, all he wanted was to be a normal, simple, ordinary man. Nothing special, nothing unique, just a man who was in love and wished for a better life.

_A Dark Lord of the Sith! A great Jedi Master! Look at me now? How the mighty have fallen..._

He felt just as pathetic and weak as his thoughts made him out to be. For someone so great, he felt so small. All of his achievements, all of his progress, and here he sat, moaning and groaning about not being the average ordinary citizen.

Revan began to think of Satele. He was surprised, when he thought of it, that she had proposed such an idea. She seemed like your average Jedi and since they had little belief in thinking of others who had already passed, he wondered why she would go to these lengths to help him? Wouldn't she have persuaded something less _stuck-in-the-past_? That struck him as odd, but then when he really thought of it, he reminded himself she was descended from Bastila. And Bastila had shared similar beliefs as he did, distrusting in certain Jedi phrases and the councils ways.

_You are more like your great, great, great, great, great grandmother than you realize Satele._

Revan smiled at that, glad to see a more open-minded Jedi versus the strict, by the book types. He appreciated those and recognized they weren't bad or ignorant people, just dedicated individuals to the truth of everything. But there was dedication and then there was living and enjoying life. Which was the path Revan and Bastila chose after their victory against Malak.

And they had lived. For the course of two years, Revan woke up every morning and went to sleep every night with Bastila at his side. Spent two years caressing her with a touch of the hand, a kiss, a stroke of her hair, gazing into her beautiful and alive gray eyes. He remembered his first time looking upon her, back on Taris, just after he had won the Swoop Bike Race. She had been pretending to be unconscious and after Revan's distraction it had given her an advantage. He turned and saw the determination in her expression and knew something was unique about her.

Revan smiled again, remembering the beginnings of their friendship. She had been so easy to get at; she made it easy. He loved pushing her buttons, but never to the point of hurting or insulting her. He played a game, was cocky at times, but when a situation warranted seriousness, he could shift quickly.

After, Bastila grew more accustom to the teasing and in ways encouraged it. They both played games with each other, knowing deep down most of the words and gestures weren't literal. He enjoyed those moments the most. It was like they were kids, just having fun.

Revan felt his emotions calming down. Thinking of Bastila in a positive way always helped. It was easy to get lost in his grief. But knowing what he would soon face, Revan would rather be in a calm manner than an anxious or angry one. It would take time, and as long as another Emperor or any enemy for that matter didn't come with an elixir of life to prolong his, his time here would be short and in the end, it all would have been worth it. He sacrificed to save his wife and son, and eventually he would be rewarded with an everlasting reunion.

Revan closed his eyes, feeling a sense of pre-closure. He was ready to face Bastila's grave, say what needed to be said and hope he would finally be able to move on.

_It's what she would want!_

Revan's train of thought was interrupted as he sensed a presence nearing. Within a few moments a knock came from the entrance of his quarters. He rose and opened the door, facing one of the ships crew.

"Yes?"

"Just wanted to inform you, sir," began the crew member. "We're about to exit hyperspace. We'll be landing on Talravin within minutes. A speeder will be waiting at the landing site and shouldn't take more than an hour to reach the grave site."

Revan was smiling brightly inside. "Thank you."

The crew member departed and the entrance of Revan's quarters closed.

_I'm ready, Bastila, _Revan thought. _I'm ready to say goodbye..._


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter III: The Grave_

No more than an hour passed before the speeded neared the grave site and Revan could immediately sense something through the Force. He knew it was warning him, telling him to be cautious in how to approach the situation. In older periods of their history, grave sites use to hold the full physical form of the person's body. In fact, some tribal cultures and primitive race still did. But Bastila, being a Jedi, would have been cremated. But the tombstone still symbolized the person who had once existed. Revan would literally be talking to a piece of rock and metal, but the Jedi believed, even Revan, that there was more to the universe than the mere physical.

The speeder slowed and Revan looked upon the entrance of the grave site. All of the area was surrounded and protected by a metal fence that released a low level electrical shock when attempting to enter without permission. He liked the idea of the dead being respected.

Revan exited the speeder and walked down the ornately designed stone path that lead to the entrance. An archway was made and with a wave of a hand on a scanner, the double fenced doors opened.

Immediately he sensed the Force warning him again. Death was a natural part of life, but it was also something not to take lightly. He moved, slowly, as if not wanting to disturb the dead of their eternal sleep. It was too quiet for his liking.

Revan reached out with the Force and after only moments detected where Bastila's grave lay. He continued slowly, stealing glances at other tombstones, reading off the names and dates. He began to feel like a ghost as many of these individuals had died a hundred years or more ago.

He shook the thought away and prepared himself as he drew near. And then, there it was!

Revan stopped, frozen where he stood. His mouth began to dry, a knot developed in his throat and for the longest moment he couldn't breath.

_This is going to be harder than I thought..._

Revan used the traditional technique of the Jedi to calm his body and mind. It began to thaw away the ice, allowing him to move again. He stood right in front of the tombstone that bared Bastila's full name, date of birth and death. There was even a small saying ornately carved at the bottom: _The Jedi Way Claimed Love Leads to The Dark Side. But I Am Living Proof that Love Leads to the Light!_

Revan felt like he had been punched and felt the air leave his lungs. After everything, after him not ever returning to her, she still possessed love for him.

_I knew I didn't deserve you, Bastila!_

Revan felt weaker than ever. He felt desperation overwhelm him and he wanted to scream of how unfair it was. He wanted the woman he loved, his wife, to be alive right now, with him, at his side, so he could hold her and never let go.

Many tears escaped and wet his face and clothes.

"You were always the stronger of the both of us," Revan finally found his voice. He slowly rose to his feet, feeling his strength beginning to return, as if the presence of Bastila's ashes had something to do with it.

"Three hundred years," Revan said. "Three hundred years and I'm still here. I never would have imagined such a thing. So many people seek immortality and I know from first hand experience how ignorant such thoughts are. And at a cost!" Revan gripped his emotions, not wanting to fall apart, least of all here.

"When I was captured, I was also saved, for the briefest of moments," he began to tell his tale. "The Exile—Meetra Surik—arrived and for a moment it was like the old days. Like none of the recent events had happened. Like I hadn't remember my past, hadn't leave you, wasn't captured, tortured and kept alive for the that cursed emperor's use. But that came to an abrupt end. Not before I saw the holo-recording you made me, though. I must have watched it dozens upon dozens of times before our attempted strike against the emperor. Seeing you, seeing our son...it bought me to tears and for a moment a part of me wanted to forget everything and run back to you. But I knew I couldn't. If I did, you and our son never would have known peace. Nor the many other generations of the Shan descendents."

Revan smiled. "The current generation, her name is Satele Shan, and in ways she reminds me of you. Hints in her expression, mannerisms, tone of voice… Some of them are subtle and some obvious. She also whelms a double-bladed lightsaber as you did. Blue, rather than yellow. But yellow was a color that suited you. It reminded me of the rising sun sets we use to watch." He lowered his gaze a moment. "I miss that. Watching sun sets. Especially with you. I haven't, even after my freedom. It reminds me of you too much. Everything reminds me of you. It's so hard to..._live_."

Revan reached out and lightly touched the letters of her name. "I miss you. I wish things could have been different, but I would have done it the same. You were—_are_—so important to me. And our son. I'm sorry I wasn't there with you, helping you, helping him. I wish I could have held your hand while you gave birth or see you holding him for the first time. Hear him speak his first words. Watch him take his first steps... I'm sure it was a beautiful site. But at least, he had his mother there. I hear mother's are a very important part of child upbringing. Still..." Revan closed his eyes. "I can almost imagine perfectly, me holding him, playing with him, teaching and guiding him about life..."

Revan felt his emotions overwhelming him again. "I don't want to say goodbye," he fell to the ground, hand still touching the tombstone. "I don't think...Oh Bastila, look at me. Look how far I have fallen. The once hero, savior of the Republic, is unable to move on. Perhaps the Jedi were right about attachment. They fear it so because of what it brings when danger and death comes. I can't imagine how it was for you. Always wondering, always unsure if I was still alive somewhere or dead..."

His thoughts shifted slightly. "The Exile—Meetra. She told me she saw you, talked with you. I'm sorry to say she didn't survive our attempted strike against the emperor. We both had been forced to put our trust in one of those vile pure blood Sith. I thought he was really sincere. I recently learned he did aid the Jedi Knight who killed the emperor, but for all this time I thought he had truly betrayed us. Meetra was killed, before we even had a chance to take on the emperor. One moment she was alive, standing at my side, ready to follow me to death if it came to it, and the next..." Revan grew silent. "Within one single moment, I lost everyone I cared for greatly. And spent the last three hundreds years wondering if it had all been worth it."

Revan found strength again and rose. "And it was! The Exile's death hadn't been in vane. And my capture and torture, it strengthened me in ways I never could have imagined. I kept thinking of you, and our son, and that got me through it. I kept imagining your smile, the past, our time together, of how happy you and our son were. That was more powerful than anything the emperor could throw at me." He exhaled, "No, the Jedi were wrong. Love isn't something to fear or stray from, but to embrace. We both made the right choice. If we hadn't, I fear how worse things would have been. Not for you and I, but for the galaxy and for the Republic."

He glanced at the saying at the bottom of the tombstone again. "Love is of the Light. Both of us are proof of that."

Revan began to feel calmer, positive and relaxed for the first time since being rescued and freed.

_It's working!_

Revan placed both of his hands against the tombstone and closed his eyes, envisioning Bastila standing before him. "I will always miss you. I will always love you. But I won't allow it to ruin me. We will be together again, when the moment comes for me to transcend into the Force. And when that happens our connection will be at its strongest. We will be one and know one another in a deeper, more intimate way than any physical means." He breathed in—imagining holding Bastila, gripping onto her wrists gentle, kissing her softly, pressing his head against hers—then exhaled and opened his eyes. "Goodbye, my love!"

Revan turned and retraced his steps to the grave site entrance, feeling reborn again. He had finally found the closure he had needed. His grief was nearly non-existent, his sadness replaced by contentment, and his fears and hopelessness evaporated.

"I am Revan Reborn...once a Dark Lord, then a Jedi Hero of the Republic. Once a husband, a father and then finally...a survivor of fate."


	5. Epilogue

Epilogue: A New Beginning_

Weeks had gone by since Revan faced Bastila's grave. And since, he had been thriving!

Revan felt alive again, like the day of his original rebirth. He had finally been able to move on, enjoying life as he had before. And not long after those weeks, he accepted a position at the Jedi Temple.

Satele still kept an eye out for him, which in ways felt odd. _He_ was her great, great, great, great, great grandfather. If anything, he should be watching out for her. But he accepted it. He still could see Bastila in her and it no longer bother him. He was pleased actually. In ways it was like she was still alive. Or as a sort of tribute to her. Either way, he enjoyed the moments he and Satele shared.

The galaxy also continued to rebuild and in certain circumstances Revan aided whenever he could. He knew it would be something Bastila wanted or would be doing herself.

Revan still had moments he felt weak or would find himself crying, especially at night, but when the sun rose he felt new and refreshed for the coming day. But rarely did he loose control of his emotions, rarely did they overwhelm him and rarely did he collapse from grief. He and truly felt himself moving on after gaining the required closure he received at Bastila's grave.

Not just through the Force, but within his heart, Revan knew Bastila was always near. And when his time to transcend into the Force came, it would be both a sad and beautiful day. And whenever he closed his eyes, he saw the image of his wife and son in the distance, waving at him, while he himself ran towards them before embracing them.

_The Jedi Way Claimed Love Leads to The Dark Side. But I Am Living Proof that Love Leads to the Light!_


End file.
